The Sovereign Chronicles novel Chapter 37

"How in the world did you do that?" Celine asked, her excitement bubbling over. She was just as stunned as the rest. She knew Kaelen had terrifying potential and only needed an opportunity, but to be this overwhelming? It bordered on monstrous.

Her highest expectation had been Kaelen stubbornly surviving until the timer ran out. She never imagined he would outright cripple Maelor.

"Do what?"

"A Phase Five obliterating a Phase Seven!"

"Mostly technique. And Maelor got sloppy."

Celine beamed. "This is the first time I've seen you covered in bruises and didn't feel a stitch of pity."

"Just flesh wounds. Didn't hit the bone."

"How much explosive force did your Unbound Force output?"

"Around five thousand pounds."

Celine gasped in realization. No wonder. "Go back and get some proper rest. I'm heading to Petyr van Orrin's place to collect your Glimmerpearl Herbs. Hehe, I put down three stalks with him at ten-to-one odds. That fat bastard owes me thirty!"

"That much? Will he actually pay up?" Kaelen laughed.

Celine winked playfully. "He'll definitely try to weasel out of it. I'll just wring out whatever I can."

"You keep the winnings. I only need the three Lyra got for me. Don't forget, I'm still officially a Servitor; I'm not allowed to possess high-grade martial arts or aether herbs."

"I'll just tell them I placed the bet under your name."

Kaelen didn't let the day's victory go to his head. Once back in the warehouse, he immediately entered a meditative trance, circulating the Genesis Mantra to devour the ambient vitality in the air.

Having thoroughly mastered the second phase of the mantra, his recovery rate was several times faster than before. Bathed in the nourishing life-essence, his dozen or so lacerations began to close at a visible speed.

Lyra truly stood her ground at the arena, refusing to let Maelor's people leave until the herbs were physically delivered into her hands. Her absolute dominance left a deep impression on everyone present.

By the time Maelor was finally carried off, he was half-comatose. He nearly lost the arm entirely.

While this iron-fisted move would undoubtedly draw the ire of the Grand Elder's faction, looking at the entire Azure Sky Sanctum, there was truly no one who dared cross Lyra.

The next morning, that bastard Steward Fargo sent over the delivery manifest, intentionally adding a massive amount of 'extra weight' to the load.

Thanks to a full night of aether cycling, Kaelen was mostly healed. He hoisted the massive stone vat and began his delivery rounds.

Outwardly, not a single trace of injury remained. His complexion was healthy, his demeanor as calm as a placid lake, as if the bloodbath from yesterday had never happened.

He was calm, but the disciples he passed on the road certainly weren't. Was this kid literally unkillable? He was beaten half to death yesterday, and after a single night, he was back to hauling boulders like a draft horse? No wonder eight years of torture hadn't broken him—the bastard was made of iron!

While there were still a few sneers thrown his way, they were noticeably muted. Even when his deliveries ran late, nobody dared bark at him. They were terrified. This kid wasn't afraid of punishment, wasn't afraid of beatings, and wasn't afraid of powerful enemies. He was a walking powder keg, and now that he had actual power, he was completely fearless.

Kaelen remained focused. The victory itself meant little; what he truly valued was the combat experience and identifying the microscopic flaws in his martial technique.

That was the true treasure.

Five days later, Kaelen's aether core expanded once more. He shattered his bottleneck, advancing to Phase Six of the Spirit Warrior Tier.

The three Glimmerpearl Herbs Lyra secured, alongside the five Celine managed to extort from Petyr, were instrumental. He consumed six stalks to force the breakthrough, leaving two to stabilize his new foundation.

Kaelen didn't slack off for a single second, training day and night. A normal cultivator's mind and body would have collapsed under the strain, but Kaelen possessed the Genesis Mantra. The endless influx of ambient aether kept his mind razor-sharp, his stamina overflowing, and wiped away any physical fatigue, keeping him at peak performance.

He had waited eight agonizing years for this crack in the system. If he didn't push himself to the absolute limit, he would be failing himself—and worse, failing the people of the Stormhold Citadel who were waiting for him in the darkness.

Yet, in the dead of night, Kaelen sometimes found his mind wandering. Why hadn't anyone from his family come to visit him this year?

In the past, they managed three visits a year. Now, over half the year had passed without a single shadow at his door.

Did something happen?

When would he finally be strong enough to return home? To see his family, to see the suffering citizens of his city?

Late one night, as Kaelen sat cross-legged in meditation, solidifying his Phase Six aether core, a raspy, ethereal whisper materialized out of thin air.

"Elder One... save me..."

The voice was hollow, impossibly weak, drifting like mist.

Kaelen snapped his eyes open, scanning the room. Where did that come from? His gaze instantly locked onto the deepest, darkest corner of the warehouse, piled high with forgotten junk. In the dead of night, it was incredibly eerie.

"Elder One... I am of the Dawnforged Kin..."

"Save me... save me..."

The raspy voice faded in and out, ephemeral and hollow. It sounded like it was echoing from the depths of the warehouse, yet simultaneously ringing directly inside his own skull.

"Who are you?! Where are you hiding?" Kaelen's brow locked in a tight frown, forcing himself to stay calm.

"Forgive my intrusion... taking refuge within the Netherward Blade..."

"I meant no offense... I am too weak..."

"Save me... bring me back to the Dawnspire Imperium..."

Kaelen's heart hammered against his ribs. He instantly turned his aether inward, probing his core.

At the Spirit Warrior Tier, he couldn't achieve true 'inner sight' of his meridian pathways yet, but he could absolutely sense the anomaly anchored in his core.

The Netherward Blade?

It was hiding inside the Blade?

The Dawnforged Kin?

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